Drink and Dysfunction
by JoyfulSilence
Summary: Arthur is forced against his will to the annual Christmas Party, Where He has a little too much to drink. I suck at summaries, really. FrUK Rated M to be really really safe
1. 0

**Heh he heh. I wanted to put forth something for Christmas, but It ended up being less Christmassy than I wanted, Whatever, It's FrUK So I'm happeh**

**-------------------**

It was time again for the, as it was so nicely named 'International Christmas Event.' Although Not every Nation actually Celebrated Christmas, It was apparent that Alfred was not willing to take no for an answer when it came to naming the annual Event. As nicely put as the name was, it still basically meant that the meeting of the world was going to be at a bar, where some odd 40 nations were going to get severely drunk and half of them weren't going to remember that night.

'What do you want, Francis?' Arthur whined opening his front door. Francis Shrugged.

'Mm' He said in false thought, 'Le sex, un bouteille du vin.'

'Funny. What do you want from me?' Francis paused

'Le Sex, un bouteille du vin'

'Not happening' Arthur growled.

'If not' Francis said, 'then allow me to escort you to the Christmas party of the nations' He grabbed Arthur around the wrists and tried to pull him through the door.

'No! I'm not going to this Damn thing at all, let alone with you, you flashy, indecent, Perverted frog!' Arthur shouted as he wrenched his arm forcefully from Francis' grip. As with every year, Francis was trying to convince himself that Arthur was in desperate need of an escort, to which Arthur usually would reply that he had his own way of getting there. 'Plus, I doubt your ability to drive on the right side of the road.'

'Oui' Francis said arrogantly 'I drive on ze left' Arthur sighed, frustrated. 'Peu importe, you must come with me to zis soirée. I am not taking _non_ for an answer' and he proceeded to drag Arthur, Kicking and swearing out of his house and into his car, 'Mm, It will be un soir merveilleux. And if your displeased at my company that much' He laughed to himself as if that was the most preposterous thing one could think up, 'Tu peux partir si tu veux. Find someone else to harass, oui?'

'Fine' Arthur Moaned and he came to the realization that nothing was going to get him out of this.

**A/N I suppose I should put the French translations here:**

**Peu importe: Nevermind**

**Soir merveilleux: Wonderful evening**

**Tu peux partir si tu veux: You may leave if you wish**

**The rest should be pretty straightforward **


	2. 1

'Elizaveta' Arthur said to the girl behind the bar with the utmost civility, 'A cup of tea if you could' Elizaveta gave him an odd look.

'Mon Dieu, Angleterre' Francis said 'Do you even know how to drink? What's that stuff I always see you put in your tea when I walk through the door?'

'Gin?' Arthur replied. Francis waved Elizaveta back over to him.

'Madame, Gin for the boy' He said 'Hold the tea' He leaned in further, 'Keep them coming, we need to loosen him up a bit'

'Oh that's better' Elizaveta said, 'I was worried I'd have to actually find a kettle in this dump.' She took a bottle out from under the counter and proceeded to pour it into a shot glass and passing it over to Arthur. He just stared at it.

'Monseiur, it's a drink, you drink it' Francis said. England glared at him. 'How about this, you drink it from the glass or you drink it from me, your choice.' Arthur grabbed the glass and downed in before Francis finished his sentence. He pulled a face.

'And for you sir?' Elizaveta said giggling at Arthur.

'Vin rouge if you could' Francis said

'Of course' She said, 'you're looking awfully festive tonight' and so he Did. Arthur had been too distracted by Francis's actions to notice he wasn't wearing his usual excessively flashy outfit of Blue and red but was instead was, if possible even more overdressed in red white and gold. Francis looked himself up and down.

'Mon Dieu, so I am' He said, laughing. Arthur looked over at him.

'Is that mistletoe…In your belt?' He scoffed.

'Peut-être. Why don't you take a closer look?'

'Not interested. Do you honestly think that's going to work?'

'Oui'

'Ugh, you're revolting. Ten quid says you don't get laid tonight'

'I'll take that bet' He beckoned Elizaveta over and pointed to Arthur in front of him. _Another gin for him_ He grinned. Elizaveta filled the glass in front of Arthur

**A/N I suppose I should put the French translations here:**

**Mon Dieu, Angleterre: My god, England**

**Vin rouge: Red wine**

**Peut-être: Maybe**

**If there are mistakes in my French, Don't hesitate to correct them for me. I don't speak French. I'm a failure as a Canadian.**


	3. 2

'No, no thank you' Arthur muttered pushing the newly filled shot glass away from him.

'On the house, hun' Elizaveta said, nudging it back towards him. Arthur shrugged and placed the glass to his lips. Francis, behind him, muttered something in French but Arthur wasn't listening, nor did he care.

'Arthur!' He heard a familiar voice call from behind him.

'Peter?' Arthur stared at the small boy in shock. 'What the bloody hell are you doing here? You shouldn't be here'

'Berwald let me come' Peter said happily, pointing to the man behind him.

'I di' n't' Berwald mumbled crossly.

'It was Tino then'

'What? No no no' Tino said, waving his hands frantically 'He just, Hid in the car, that's all. We tried to tell him he couldn't come, but-'

'But I'll be a nation one day' Peter whined to Tino 'So why couldn't I come now'

''S no matter of w'th'r yer a nat'n 'r not' Berwald said (Or tried to.)

'You're just not old enough' Arthur said, but his words were beginning to slur.

'I'm tired of being told I'm not big enough' Peter screamed, attracting attention before storming off into the crowd of nations.

'Ill get 'im' Berwald said running to catch the boy. Tino followed closely behind him.

'Lizav'ta' Arthur slurred grouchily, and pointed to the glass in front of him. 'Better yet, make it two. If it's gunna carry on like this, I don't want to remember anything' Elizaveta obliged happily. Francis leaned his arm on Arthur's shoulder

'Don't you have a bet to lose, Francis' Arthur growled 'Go work on that rather than bothering me'

'Ah, mon amour, These things, they take time, oui?' Francis said

'Dammit Francis, stop with the french' Arthur groaned 'Speak the Kings English, KINGS ENG-LISH' Francis rolled his eyes. 'L'Anglais de le roi' Dead Silence. Arthur turned away from Francis. 'Don't look too far into that' And he took both of the shots in front of him.

**A/N French translations :**

**L'Anglais de le roi: The king's English **


End file.
